


Dog Teeth

by GallicGalaxy



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3459782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallicGalaxy/pseuds/GallicGalaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waylon wonders about what it's like to feel safe for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dog Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> This is not just Resolution with different characters. It is similarly random and emotional, though. Waylon cries and Eddie tries to make him stop crying. So just like Resolution, but without a desk.  
> Also apparently crying happens in every single one of my fics

Waylon wondered what safety felt like. He'd heard that one didn't need to feel safe to feel unafraid, but did one need to feel unafraid to feel safe?

Maybe not. But sometimes one just forgets to be afraid, when they know that they really should.

Back in the old days, when women were all expected to be servile, sensitive little things, with long hair and long skirts, they tested their safety by crying. Logical. They were expected to cry a lot anyway, and if they did it was considered to just be their delicate compositions. Lots of women cried. And if they received comfort and affection when they cried, then they found the stability they were testing for. The security.

So Waylon told himself that he was crying on purpose. That he meant to. That he just wanted to see if Eddie would comfort him. Not that he doubted that at all. He knew he would. Maybe that was what Waylon was doing, then. Using the act of crying as a means of receiving affection and consolation.

Sometimes safety feels strong, Waylon thought, and warm. Like a pair of powerful arms wrapped around him, pulling him against an equally powerful chest. And he could bring himself to bury his face against that strong, broad chest, and listen to its heart and feel its warmth.

And then safety sounded surprisingly quiet for how strong it felt. Very quiet, in fact. Like a muffled heartbeat and the sound of soft whispers, deep whispers, that caressed Waylon’s ears like those hands caressed his hair. And safety looked surprisingly beautiful.

But safety faded away. Oh, how easy it was to forget. When those strong arms were wrapped so tightly and protectively around Waylon’s back, when those heavy, calloused hands were slowly stroking his head, it was nearly impossible not to forget how horrible it was to be on the other end of them. How much they could hurt.

As soon as Waylon started to cry, Eddie was right there. He wrapped his arms around Waylon’s shoulders and pulled his trembling body close, petting his hair. “Oh, darling…” Eddie murmured, nuzzling Waylon sweetly. “There, there.” Waylon’s entire form convulsed as he sobbed, his tears wetting Eddie’s undershirt, his hands seeking something to hold. They found the edges of his vest, attached so firmly to his body.

Waylon hid himself in Eddie like he was a safe place. With Eddie's arms around his back, and Waylon's face and hands on Eddie's chest. Eddie tucked Waylon's head under his own, speaking very quietly. “Oh, why do you cry, darling?” He asked, the sadness in his voice so honest and profound that he almost seemed loving.

Loving. Warm. Strong. Safe. Waylon nuzzled Eddie's chest, his breathing slowing down rather quickly. “You will be alright.” Eddie whispered, kissing Waylon's forehead. “I won’t let anything hurt you.” He continued, rubbing Waylon’s back as he did so. But was that true?

A fresh flood of tears burst from Waylon’s eyes, accompanied by the rhythmic sobbing of his breath. Waylon could feel fear start to creep back into him, starting in his shoulders and following the movements of Eddie’s hands. Strange, since most fear started in his core and strangled his heart.

Waylon pushed himself away from Eddie’s chest, breaking the barrier of his embrace, and he ran. He didn’t care where he was running to. Anywhere. Away.

“Darling!” Eddie’s distressed voice echoed through the hallways. Waylon didn’t look back. He knew what was going to happen.

He kept running aimlessly, his formerly wounded leg buckling underneath him and his lungs straining for breath. He didn’t know where he was going or when and why he stopped, but eventually he just gave up. He collapsed between two lockers, cowering in a fetal position, burying his tear-stained face against his knees. He kept crying, loudly, audibly, not caring who found him. He was still in Eddie’s territory, so he was not far enough. Not far enough to get caught by anyone besides him.

Waylon braced his shoulders against the wall, gripping his legs tightly, trembling all over, feeling traces of sharp fear linger in his shoulder blades. He couldn’t tell which footsteps were real and which ones were figments of his imagination anymore. Maybe they all were. Maybe it was just his own heartbeat pounding.

But he knew the real ones when he heard them. Eddie’s footsteps were loud, scattered, the result of long, powerful legs carrying a very large body. Usually they were accompanied by hissing and spitting and snarling, like a rabid badger, hunting for Waylon and calling him sickening names. Waylon tried to hush his sobs, but rather unsuccessfully. He knew Eddie would find him one way or another.

Waylon hid with his eyes shut tightly, in his unsafe place, in plain sight.

He could tell without opening his eyes when Eddie was near him, but surprisingly, Eddie slowed down and halted a few feet away. Waylon didn’t look at him, he just started hyperventilating and balled up even tighter.

“Darling?” Eddie beckoned. “Why did you run from me?” He asked in an injured tone of voice. Waylon sobbed loudly, shaking pathetically as he curled himself into the tiniest ball possible, as though somehow he could make himself small enough to disappear from view. Eddie's shadow loomed over him, darkening his vision and sending him into a spiral. He was nearly hyperventilating now, overcome by what could only have been sheer terror at that point.

“Dearest...” Eddie nearly sobbed, crouching down in front of Waylon. Waylon tightened his grip on his own legs and hunched his shoulders.

“Go away.” He hissed quietly, shivering. He didn't care if he made Eddie angry anymore. He would eventually anyway. He would never escape.

It would always come back to the same thing. He would never forget what it felt like to have furrows raked along his flesh, to feel those strong hands suddenly turn on him and the crushing feeling that he couldn't escape. The knowledge that as strong as Eddie was, that was only good when he was on your side and Eddie was on nobody's side. His kindness was never permanent.

“My darling...” Eddie whispered, reaching out and touching Waylon's knee. “I don't want you to be so upset. Why won't you tell me what's wrong? I...I don't understand...”

Eddie wasn't angry. That was strange. Usually he was ready to kill Waylon after something like that. Ready to pin him down, hands around Waylon's throat while Waylon struggled for any way out from under him, any way to escape the unthinkable things he was threatening to do. And the fear that came with it, the fear that he would live up to his words, the fear that made Waylon tremble even now.

Because sometimes he did live up to his threats.

“I know I've been a bit...rude.” Eddie sighed, gently stroking Waylon's knee as Waylon tried to shrink away even more, as much as possible, like he was still fleeing. “I've done some things in the past that no man would be proud of.”

Waylon sobbed uncontrollably, his blood feeling like ice in his veins as his body remembered all the pain Eddie had caused him. It stung like scratches on his back and ached like bruises along his ribs, his legs, and his face. It jolted into him in every place it shouldn't have, sawing back and forth, in and out, carving what felt like thousands of painful strikes in all over again.

“But I...I do not want you to be afraid of me.” Eddie murmured softly, his voice gentle and laced with sickly-sweet deception. _You're too late for that._ Waylon thought. He wanted to get away, but he couldn't run past Eddie.

He would've rather been beaten at that point. He didn't know what to say, or what to do.

Eddie embraced him, yanking Waylon's shoulders from where they were curled against his legs in a fetal position, and brought his ugly, crying face to his chest. “There, there.” Eddie whispered, petting Waylon's hair like he was some small, delicate creature. Waylon shivered, repulsed by the thought of staying there, and continued to cry because he'd given up on not crying a long time ago.

Wasn't this what he'd been looking for? Comfort? Eddie responding with kindness? So, why wasn't it satisfactory?

It felt fake. Temporary. Like all the other times when Eddie had comforted him, it was just a distraction. The anger was still there, it was just masked.

“I'm not going to hurt you.” Eddie assured him, running his hands along Waylon's back. _That's a lie,_ Waylon thought, _That's a lie._ Eddie kissed the side of Waylon's neck, nuzzling his softly. “Please don't worry. I love you, darling.” _That's a lie,_ Waylon thought, _That's a lie._ Waylon sobbed loudly, still not bothering to pull away. Eddie wrapped his strong arms firmly around Waylon, holding him in place, and kissed Waylon's forehead.

Eddie tenderly pushed one of his index fingers under Waylon's glasses, brushing his tears away. Waylon just kept crying, his sobs echoing through the silent hallways, Eddie supporting his limp, quivering body.

Waylon cried until he felt like he couldn't cry anymore. He cried until he lost his energy, until he was so exhausted that he couldn't do anything but lie like a ragdoll in Eddie's powerful arms. He could feel the steady rhythm of Eddie's breathing as it thrummed against his thick chest, which guided Waylon's own breathing until he was no longer sobbing.

“You're alright, darling.” Eddie purred, smiling gently and stroking Waylon's neck. “You're alright.”

Waylon closed his eyes, his chest heaving, and pressed his face against Eddie's chest. He breathed in Eddie's sweet, musky smell, whining slightly as he nuzzled Eddie's undershirt.

“You'll be alright.” Eddie said in a tight voice, patting Waylon's back. “Are you sleepy, love?”

“Mmh-hmm.” Waylon squeaked, afraid that if he said any real words he would start crying again.

“You're okay.” Eddie told him, holding Waylon's limp doll body against his. “You're okay.”

 _You're okay._ Was this what it felt like? He didn't feel...That bad. He felt okay. Waylon brushed his face against Eddie's and whimpered slightly, as though asking for more of that attention.

“You're okay, darling. I'll keep you safe.” Eddie breathed, a strange sort of protectiveness lining his sad tone. “I'll keep you safe.” Waylon's shoulders shifted a little, like he was bracing himself to cry again, but he managed to subdue it.“I won't hurt you again, I promise. I won't say...anything I said...anything I tried to do...” Eddie sounded like he was about to cry, and Waylon felt his ribs shudder for a second. “I know I've hurt you. I didn't want to. Please...just trust me.” He sniffed quietly, stroking the entirety of Waylon's back and pressing them as close together as possible.

Waylon sighed and was silent. “Th-thank you...” He rasped, his throat sore from crying and his body weary. He didn't want to thank Eddie for anything, but he did. Maybe he had something to thank Eddie for.

Comfort. The security of Eddie's arms holding him there, and at the very least the stability, the sense that Eddie would be there, at least, and keep Waylon there for as long as it took.

Maybe it was alright.

Even if not forever, it was alright for now.

 


End file.
